#the gender dysphoria has been getting bad lately

[metrosexualcyclops]

.

[murderandcoffee]

I finally have a binder again and I KNOW I shouldn't wear it to my tattoo appointment tomorrow but GOD do I want to

[undomesticated-animal]

Honestly, body euphoria has done WONDERS for my ability to keep a physical self care routine, and I keep thinking back to Young Domi being so fucking OVERWHELMED by the thought of having to haul myself through the daily gauntlet of mirrors, lights, smells, self-shaming, and dysphoria inducing body modifictions made in a desperate bid to feel worthy of my skin. The idea that this could ever be anything but NEUTRAL AT BEST was laughable to me, so much so that I didn't even realize how terrified I felt by the possibility it could be real.

I can't go back and tell Past Domi all the things I understand now that I know would have mattered so much, but I can say them on the internet and maybe someone gets to learn them faster than I did.

Body euphoria isn't just for trans and intersex folks. And I mean this more than just "oh cis people should get gender ephoria too" (it's true!) because I also mean that the idea that body euphoria/dysphoria is neatly segmented up into little slices of life with no crossover is unrealistic and painful for everyone. Thinking that I was only allowed to care about my euphoria around gender actually made it REALLY hard to recognize I was having DYSphoria around my gender at all. After all, I avoided thinking about that in exactly the same ways I avoided thinking about the dysphoria around other aspects of my embodiment! I must just be bad at body positivity, "it's always easier to do for others than for myself 🤗 teehee" was a go to blow off for me when people asked me to confront how visibly uncomfortable I was in my body.

Because the thing is, it ISN'T easier to do for others than yourself. It really isn't. The part that's easier is avoiding the shame we feel about it. But once we confront the shame, loving your body is the easiest thing in the world. <- this is gonna be where Past Domi went "oh fuck this noise" and bounced but HEAR ME OUT

A body you cannot live with is a body you cannot care for, and a body you can't care for is a body you will almost always struggle to live with. This feedback loop is the CORNERSTONE of body dysphoria for a lot of people. It's a chicken and egg situation where it's nearly always going to be impossible to know what came first, but once either is present, the other will kick into gear to really hunker down in your psyche.

The feedback loop works the other direction too though. This is why people tell you to find the little things that make a tiny difference. They are (usually) not telling you that it'll be enough on its own, but every one of those you find uncovers new ones, and little by little you start feeling up to bigger pieces of self care because you've recovered enough to start putting int the front-loaded work for the worthwhile outcome

When that upwards feedback loop clicks? It's night and day. Like I genuinely don't know how to describe what it's like to just sort of.....wake up different. But it happens all the time, and it KEEPS happening. And you start to realize you're not "waking up different" you're just....getting to know yourself without feeling so uncomfortable with what you're learning that you shy away from yourself

I dunno man, I don't have a point here, but I've been processing old grief lately and the grief of how long I spent viciously hating myself and truly believing that's what neutrality feels like.....Little-Domi deserved better, and so do yall

[ally1uvsu]

The Last Train to Survival. / Squid game x Dystopian Au

⨉⠀⠀─⠀⠀Days gone by .⠀›⠀first meetings⠀‎ꪆৎ

·⠀warnings info⠀· previous — pt.1

summary; From unexpected meetings after 91 days of isolation, to getting stuck in an apartment complex for a night, Nam-gyu finally has contact with human life. But maybe things don’t work out as much as he expected they would when getting out.

info; Killing, blood, cursing, smoking, mentions of being in drugs, death threats, guns, mentions of gender dysphoria.

notes; IM SORRY THIS TOOK SOOOO LONG GUYS.. I got too caught up and I couldn’t stay up at night too late either so yeah.. I had to find time in my schedule to write.. but anyways enjoy y’all >_<

⨉⠀⠀─⠀⠀Story below this .⠀›⠀enjoy !⠀‎ꪆৎ

Nam-gyu wasn't totally sure how many days had gone by, normally, he'd keep track of how every day went by in a notebook, but maybe he could have miscounted. The silence would always be present, counting out the groans and shuffling of the undead outside.

His head was tilted back as he closed his eyes, maybe the lack of any human interaction was slowly getting to him, maybe he was finally going insane. The pen in his hands that long stopped being constantly shaky was tapping the edge of the notebook he managed to find in here.

The days seemed to be all jumbled up into a mess, was it Wednesday? Thursday? What day of the week was it? All Nam-gyu ever wrote down is that it had been 91 days. The calendar hanging on the wall flickered ever so slightly, Nam-gyu was too lazy to count the days. It seemed that everything here was so boring and lonely that he didn't quite mind anymore, his brain began to get lazy, all he ever did was think.

Maybe this wasn't so bad, no debts to worry about, he had food, water, he had a way to keep himself alive. His eyes pried open again as his gaze was met with whatever he was writing;

Day 91.

"Maybe I am indeed slowly going insane, I don't really doubt I am. It's been 91 days since it happened, I've tried every single radio station, constantly keep flickering the channels on the TV- well, that was until the battery of the remote control died. Still, no one ever came by. I guess it's safe to say I'm the only one alive here, it's been a long time since I've seen someone's face rather than the mangled up faces outside. If someone out there is alive, they're probably miles away from me.

The noises outside don't bother me anymore, what bothers me is not being able to barely do anything. I haven't checked the conditions outside today, at least not yet. I've been wondering if I should leave, this place is safe and has food and  water,  but it's stupid to believe that it will last forever. Going out there is equivalent to having a death wish, but so is staying in here forever, I'll eventually die of starvation or dehydration. . ."

He wasn't quite sure what to write anymore, so instead, he set the notebook down along with the pencil and stood up. Nam-gyu figured out around 27 days ago that these things were blind, lately he has been pondering on what to call them. Calling them zombies sounds silly, now that it actually happened. Probably should call them rotters since they are in process of decomposition.

He tucked his hair, already greasy to the point Nam-gyu was deadly uncomfortable, behind his ears. He stared out the window, the situation was surprisingly way better than before- less of those things roamed the streets, maybe they scattered off somewhere. Then, his gaze followed to the shelves, he had enough food to last himself another week or so.

He then looked at the refrigerator that had long stopped working, and yet he still kept it so he would have somewhere to put shit to drink. He had water, enough to last him a week, just like the food. And iced tea. Maybe he really would have to leave eventually.

Well, he'd just have to keep himself entertained until then. He stared off into some point outside, he could write poetry, learn how to draw, write a story.. and it all was ruined the second he heard a large banging on the back door.

Nam-gyu cursed under his breath, it was probably a rotter or some shit. But still, you could never be too careful. He reached for the piece of broomstick he found somewhere in the bathroom, walking towards the back door and holding it up defensively.

All he could hear was banging, and maybe mingled ragged breathing. No groaning, no shuffling. And then he could hear the squelch of blood, finally, when he heard feet meet the door, he could safely concluded whatever was out there was human.

Nam-gyu decided it was best to open the door, loud noises could attract more rotters to be around the store, and Nam-gyu didn't feel like having them break in.

"Shit, why don't the door fucking open?!" He heard from someone, likely a woman. Nam-gyu opened it and stepped back, causing her to nearly fall on her face, but instead she stumbled to the front and another man came right behind, closing the door. Nam-gyu frowned at the sound of the dead outside, relentlessly banging on the door to try to get in.

"What the fuck are you two doing here." Nam-gyu said as he lifted the broomstick, and the woman raised her hands in the air while the other behind her just chuckled. "You oughta relax, man. Chilll," and Nam-gyu finally managed to get a good look at him.

Purple hair, a cross necklace, Nam-gyu could somewhat recognize him. He knew him from the club he worked at, he was constantly there. And plus, the guy was a rapper. But he didn't really seem to actually remember Nam-gyu at all, and Nam-gyu was thankful for that.

"Who the hell are you?" Was what Nam-gyu managed out as he straightened up, and yet his grip on the stick never truly faltered, he knew people like him might have gone a little insane or flat out crazy. Better safe than sorry. 

"What's up my brother, welcome to the Thanos world." The man who referred to himself as Thanos said as he took a step forward, right. Thanos the rapper, he was a huge hit among a few people, and Nam-gyu would often bring him drugs. "And the doll behind me is called Mi-na." 

Nam-gyu darted his eyes between them, deciding it was safe for now. "Nam-gyu." He finally said, and hell, they didn't really have much time for acquaintances because of how the door seemed it wasn't going to hold on anymore.

"Look, we don't know you, you don't know us. But we really have to get the hell out of here 'less you wanna become one of them." Thanos said almost nonchalantly, Nam-gyu wondered how could anyone be calm in situations like this. And the other one, Mi-na apparently, looked more worried about the door.

"Whatever, give me your bag." Nam-gyu said, voice slightly wavering as he tried to ease the pit in his stomach. Mi-na looked at him, raising her brow "Why would I trust you? I mean, you could grab it and leave us." Nam-gyu swore that slight tone of sassiness tweaked something in him, but they didn't have time to argue. "Bitch, you want to die of starvation and thirst out there or something?" He snapped.

"Now, calmm down the both of you. You can give him the bag, flower. He ain't going nowhere without us." And then finally, the bag got tossed to him. Nam-gyu wasted absolutely no time in stuffing food and water and whatever else he could fit inside the bag.

He searched around for an exit, the back door was crowded with undead and the front door already had some of them piling up. They had to go either through the vents or.. through the window that led to the opposite side of the shop where the dead piled up, leading to the dumpster.

"Okay, we'll leave through the window or whatever. I'll go first and the two of you come along." Nam-gyu said as he got on top of a stool and pried the window open, it wasn't that big but well, enough to pass through. His hands were surprisingly steady despite how his heart seemed to miss a beat every damn time those things banged a little too hard on the door, it was going to hold but maybe not for too long. 

And then he heard a gun being reloaded behind him, these two bitches had a fucking gun. "Leave us behind and we'll shoot you right through this window." Mi-na threatened, which was mostly fair. Nam-gyu had the bag with the supplies and was going first, but still, it still stung. "You really should relax, Mi-na. This guy's nice, he won't leave us behind. Ain't worth wasting a bullet on."

"Get going, I don't want to have to shoot you. Really, you seem like you can be.. useful, in some ways." Nam-gyu didn't waste any more time, he was out the window. Throwing the bag first before sliding out. He could run now, and risk getting followed or worse, getting caught by these rotters.

So instead, he stayed put. Watching as Thanos slid out of the window with a bit of struggle, and then proceeding to try and help Mi-na. First, he took the gun and slid it into his pocket, and then took her hand. Nam-gyu could hear the glass of the door shatter, making him wince. Mi-na was halfway through the window when she began screaming at something grabbing her feet. Nam-gyu wasn't sure how she made it out, but Thanos' eyes widened and he pulled her forward, making her fall on top of the dumpster and himself fall back with his butt on the ground.

Nam-gyu would have expected her to begin terrified, but honestly she was just pissed once she noticed she lost one of her shoes. "Son of a bitch took my fucking shoe." She grumbled under her breath before hopping out of the top of the dumpster.

"We don't have that much time, let's go." Nam-gyu called out before Thanos could even reply, and then he was basically hopping after Nam-gyu and Mi-na was eyeing him a tad weirdly. Maybe they weren't a couple after all, Nam-gyu thought.

Nam-gyu took a peek around the corner, rotters crowding the place. They would have to make a run for it, "Where do you think you should go?" The woman asked, and Nam-gyu shook his head. "No clue."

"Relax, y'all. Just follow my lead." Neither one of them had time to actually process his words or debate anything before Thanos was running somewhere, Nam-gyu looked at Mi-na and she looked back at him, and to their luck, the dead noticed them.

"Is he high or some shit?" Nam-gyu asked her as they ran after the purple haired man, and really, he wouldn't mind if he was. Maybe he could share some of his drugs, Nam-gyu really felt like getting high right now, forget about his problems and let his brain go dormant for a while.

"Definitely is, I have no fucking clue what it is but hell, it's unnerving." She said, a tad frightened but still keeping up her usual persona as they finally rounded another corner Thanos just turned in, "Come on, amigos!" Nam-gyu frowned, did this dude thrown in random words from other languages oftenly in the middle of danger? He chose to not ponder, and also chose to just stay quiet and getting inside the building that looked like an apartment complex. He then heard the door click shut, a sigh of relief leaving his lips, finally letting out a breath that he hadn't been aware he had been holding.

The silence was a bit too loud, Nam-gyu was slightly uncomfortable. It had been a long while since he last interacted with any other human beings, it's as if it's his first time in life ever talking to one.

"How did you two even end up over there?" Nam-gyu finally asked, he'd be perfectly fine in his convenience store if these two didn't stop by. His words were nearly bitter, annoyed to say at least. Nam-gyu didn't bother to hide the fact he was pissed

"Well, you see.." Mi-na began off, they both wouldn't have been running from a huge amount of walkers if they had been extra careful.

. . .

"Thanos, just fucking leave that shit over there, it's not like you'll ever not going to see a cigarette ever again." Mi-na said impatiently, crossing her arms anxiously as she looked out the window and crossed her arms, tapping her foot on the ground to try to let out some sort of anxiety from her body.

"Nah, you never know. It'll take me just a little while, plus we can just leave through one of the doors that aren't occupied if these little shits come for us, just breathe. I told you I'd protect you, flower." Thanos said as he tried to keep his balance steady on top of a shelf, trying to grab the pack of cigarettes so close and yet so far from his reach.

"You're going to get the both of us killed, dumbass!" She whisper yelled, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, and turns out Thanos should have listened to her. He fucking fell from the shelf and dropped it too, and some of the dead they hadn't noticed inside the place began coming for them.

"Oh, shit. Get going, go!" Mi-na said as she grabbed Thanos' arm and began running out of the door, she would say that she was better off by herself but maybe she wasn't, it was good having someone to have your back, even if that someone is a fucking dumbass.

Thanos kicked the door open, the sounds of groans outside were noticeable, not only the dead inside this place noticed them but the ones on the outside did, too.

"I swear, if you get us both killed I'll make sure you die a very torturous death." Mi-na snapped before being dragged by the wrist, running somewhere that was somewhat not crowded by the undead.

They ran for some time, lungs and legs burning and hearts thumping so hard in both their chests that it was almost as if it was thumping in their ears.

Then they turned around the corner and reached the end of an alleyway, which was to the corner to a store, and they really couldn't climb over the wall. "Go for the door, try to open it!"

"You asshole, if this door doesn't open we're both fucking dead!" Mi-na shouted as she began banging on the door, trying to get it to open desperately. And when it finally seemed they would both die, it opened.

. . .

"That's so fucking stupid?? Why would you waste and risk your life over a pack of cigarettes?" Nam-gyu said, almost incredulous. But frankly? He would have done the same. Sure, it's not drugs but it somewhat relaxes the brain in its own way. But still, he was pissed because they ruined his hiding for so long.

"Listen, you both gotta calm down, jeez. We're all alive in here! All we gotta do is wait, lay low, and just leave somewhere. Maybe part ways, up to Nam-su." Thanos said as he sat down on a nearby table, staring at the ceiling.

"It’s Nam-gyu, and like hell I'll come with two strangers I barely even know, the second everything clears out, I'm gone." Nam-gyu snorted, it was stupid to go with people he barely knew. Or maybe he just grew over paranoid by being alone for so long, but he didn't know a thing about these two. For all he cared, they could both be lying.

"It's not really like we'll need you, but we'll need my bag." Mi-na shrugged, looking out the window and then at Nam-gyu. "Hell no, my supplies are here?" 

"Well the bag is mines." Mi-na shrugged absentmindedly, not really in the mood to argue. "Well, the supplies are mines either way. I'll take them, you take your bag." Nam-gyu said as he already reached to open it.

"You guys both gotta tone down, jeez. We're all friends in here" Thanos said, and yet Nam-gyu didn't quite catch that ending in english. But he just assumed it was nothing good anyways. "Either way, Thanos here will protect y'all." He said with a cheeky smile.

Yeah, as if. Nam-gyu thought, forcing himself not to scowl or anything. Instead, he chose being neutral, looking around the place to examine it, and like he guessed, it was an apartment complex. He slung the bag over his shoulders, he would just explore. "Where you going?" Thanos perked up when he saw Nam-gyu turn around. "Jesus, hop off my dick for fuck's sake, I'll just explore. It isn't like I can leave without getting mauled by these rotters." Nam-gyu said a tad annoyedly, grabbing the broomstick he was originally using as a weapon.

He stayed dead quiet, there could be dead around here for all he cared. Moving stealthily and checking door for door, most of them were locked. And to his surprise, the place was fairly empty, too. Turning around a corner, he found a single rotter standing by a slightly ajar door, turning around as it seemed to notice his footsteps, and it began limping towards him.

Nam-gyu raised the broomstick until it was leveled enough to stab it, once it was close enough, he stabbed it through the neck. Which surprisingly wasn't enough, because the thing began gurgling and reaching towards him. He grimaced in disgust at the blood splattered across his face, stumbling back and dropping the broom he was holding.

'Why the fuck? It should have died.' Nam-gyu thought, conflicted. But he didn't have much time to think when he had a rotter coming at him. He didn't have much to defend himself with, so instead he grabbed the thing by its neck and pushed it against the wall, feeling it's gross hands strong on his arms, as if trying to tear his flesh apart. That's when he shoved it to the ground, pulling the broomstick straight out of its neck and stabbing it in the head instead. Then, the movements ceased. 

Nam-gyu wiped his face, trying to get rid of the blood but his hands were equally just as bloodied. He cursed, wiping them in his clothes and ignoring how his stomach churned at the squelch of blood leaving guts, sighing as he looked around. Then he realized, the door was indeed slightly ajar.

Carefully, almost stealthily, he stepped closer and closer, keeping his grip firm on the stick as he opened the door and held what he was using for a weapon in front of himself. He tapped on the wood, nothing came out. No banging sounds, nothing. He could stay in peace for now, at least.

Shutting the door behind him just as quietly as he did when he opened it, Nam-gyu slumped his shoulders. Sliding the bag off and dropping it into the couch the apartment had. He went into the kitchen, looking for whatever he could find. He couldn't really find much, all he did find was bread, already moldy. Some cookies, which he set aside on the counter. Canned food, frozen tteok-bokki, frozen soup dumplings, and some kimchi.

He separated whatever he could find that would be useful side by side, once he was done with the food, he began going for utensils. Opening drawer per drawer until in a particular one he found a knife, pocket knife. That immediately went into his pocket instead of the counter or bag. Not finding anything particularly useful, he moved to the bedrooms.

The room was messy, he guessed a college student or someone of the sorts lived in here judging by the books scattered around and papers piling up on the trash, practically already overflowing. He paid no mind to that, instead, he began observing the objects, opening the drawers of the nightstand, checking boxes under the beds, and finally opening the closet.

He slid the door to the side, crouching down as he observed, furrowing his brows as he found a box shoved deep inside the place, behind clothes that were long enough to touch the floor. 

He opened it, lips parting as he found a gun in here. Was this person some kind of criminal or?.. but he wouldn't ponder on it. It was loaded, and there was a bit of ammo along with it, he set it down on the nightstand and looked a bit further inside.

All he did take out in the end was a pair of boots that were luckily his side, leather pants that he helped to be hung around his hips with a belt, since it wasn't really staying put. And a jacket, he kept the same shirt he'd been wearing, it was dirty but eh, all clothes would considering you had to kill to live.

He tucked everything into a pile in his arms, searching for the bathroom. He shut the lid with his feet, setting the clothing items down as he began to ease off the ones he was wearing before. He took it as an opportunity to take off his binder, it wasn't something he was quite fond of but it did make breathing harder whenever he ran too much.

It was almost freeing when it came off, he ducked his head down, sucking in as much air as he could before breathing it out. He didn't dare stare at himself in the mirror, he'd just get stuck in a loophole of thoughts over being disgusting. He waited around five more minutes before he put it on again, sliding his shirt on along and then the other clothing items. Maybe this was enough exploration for now, he wouldn't really try his luck with trying to open doors, playing a game of maybe it's open maybe it's not.

And to confirm that this was indeed a college student, Nam-gyu found a bag scattered nearby the couch. He emptied the contents in it, not only swapping what was in Mi-na's bag to this one, but he also put whatever he found inside it. The ammo especially, hidden inside one of the pockets that were well-secured.

The gun, though, stayed inside his pants, hidden by the jacket. He kept the handle just in reach of his hands, it was definitely uncomfortable walking with the upper part of it hitting his hip but he would bare with it, safety came before comfort.

He would have stayed longer, but he didn't feel like listening to the two downstairs yap his ear off. Having in hand Mi-na's bag, he had the other bag he just found resting securely on his shoulders, walking back down the steps to find that Thanos guy well.. serenading Mi-na. He scrunched his nose up but walked in the room anyways. Tossing the bag to Mi-na who caught it. "There, your bag. Now we don't have to fight over shit."

Nam-gyu said as he slid his bag off, resting it on the floor and sitting next to it. Mi-na eyed him suspiciously before opening the bag, checking to see if what was previously in there was still there.

"You got new clothes, Nam-su?" Thanos asked, eyeing him up and down. "It's Nam-gyu." Nam-gyu corrected, seriously- this guy couldn't even get his name right for fuck's sake! "I found an apartment door open, well, was lucky enough to find one." He mumbled right after, tapping his fingers onto his knee.

"Damn, then we all should go try and find some new clothes." Thanos said, leaning forward slightly, fingers absentmindedly tracing the details of the pack of cigarettes.

"I just said I was lucky enough to find one dude, I had to try to open like 10 doors." Nam-gyu frowned, closing his eyes, he needed some sort of rest. Ignoring whatever else Thanos and Mi-na said, his head resting back against the wall, not really taking long to doze off.

. . .

His eyes opened slowly after a few hours, he naturally would expect his shit to be taken from him and the both of them gone. But instead, as his blurry vision focused once again, he was met with Thanos' face. He was hitting a paper ball against the wall absentmindedly, but Mi-na wasn't here.

After a few seconds of silence, Nam-gyu finally spoke; "Where'd she go?" Well, she could have left off to explore, maybe she'd stumble upon a rotter or two but he was sure she could handle herself, she seemed kind of tough despite being so sassy. "Bathroom, went to try her luck with the doors." Thanos said after a few seconds, snd Nam-gyu was glad he answered, he took a slight bit to answer so he might as well guess that Thanos was just ignoring him.

"You want one?" Nam-gyu's head looked to wherever Thanos was, finding a cigarette between his fingers. Hell, he hadn't taken a smoke since this world became a shithole.

"Yeah, sure." Nam-gyu said, watching Thanos pull out a lighter from a small pocket in his jacket, lighting it up and then extending it towards Nam-gyu.

Nam-gyu gladly complied, picking the cigarette up from between the other's fingers and bringing it to his lips. He took a drag, closing his eyes in relief as he felt the familiar feeling of slight calmness. And then, slowly, he puffed it out. Watching the smoke falling from his lips curl into the air and into nothingness.

His eyes opened again once he heard a chuckle, furrowing his brow as he rested his hand onto his knee. "Fuck's so funny?" He asked, conflicted as to why Thanos would feel amused at all. "Nam-su, you're a really funny guy. You look like you just had a sip of water after nearly dying of dehydration." What a weird way to put it, but sure. And then again with his name being wrong.

"How many times do I have to tell you it's Nam-gyu? And well, no shit, really. I haven't touched anything like this for like two months or more." He sighed, looking out the window. The sun was likely setting, the shades of warm yellow and orange hitting against the window glass, illuminating the room ever so slightly where the curtains didn't cover.

"How long you had been holed up in that store?" Thanos asked, finally locking eyes with Nam-gyu. "91 days." The slight surprise on Thanos' face was evident, and then he looked curious. "Damn, and you had food and water for that long? Lucky bastard." Thanos snorted, mixed with a laugh that held a tone of disbelief.

"You've been on your feet since it happened?" Nam-gyu asked once Thanos was done, maybe Nam-gyu did get lucky. "Yeah, met up with Mi-na like a week or two after that. Gotta say she's pretty quick and has good reflexes, nearly knocked me out with a frying pan."

Now it was Nam-gyu's turn to laugh, tilting his head in disbelief. "Seriously? With a frying pan? And here I thought she was bad enough with a gun." He shook his head, a lingering smile on his lips. It had been a while since.. he last laughed or smile. Maybe he did crave human connection after all.

"Ay, when everything clears out, if it does by morning anyways. I hope you'll stay with us, you're kinda cool." Thanos said, and again with that last bit in English that Nam-gyu couldn't quite catch, but he took it as something good- or that he hoped was good. "Maybe, I guess you aren't as bad as I thought. Mi-na is fine, she's just really sassy." He shrugged. "Man, tell me about it." Thanos replied shortly, and then comfortable silence fell over them.

The hours passed, Mi-na came back minutes after their convo was over. Nam-gyu couldn't fall asleep at night, so he opted to staring out the window or watch over the two sleeping. The streets were silent, not much movement. There were groaning and shuffling of the dead outside, but judging by how it wasn't too loud, they either scattered or went off somewhere else in the city.

Eventually, he managed to get some shuteye. It was around six when he did, and just one hour later he was up with a groan. Blinking to get used to the sunlight peering through. He stood up, opened his bag and grabbed a bottle of water, chugging it down halfway through it. Then, secured it back and slung his bag over his shoulders. 

Darting his eyes around, he found Thanos sleeping on the floor in some corner and Mi-na sleeping sat on a chair. He nudged Thanos with his foot, filling his cheeks with air and puffing them out, out of sheer boredom and impatience. "Thanos, wake up man. We have to get going already."

Once he heard Thanos shuffle and groan, and then finally sit up, he woke up Mi-na, then sat down on a chair with his back slumped. "We need to figure out where to go first, then we can get out." Nam-gyu said as he watched the both of them take a sip of water, recomposing themselves.

"We can find a car, and then we can drive off somewhere out of the city and more excluded." Mi-na suggested, closing her bag. "Sounds good, but most cars should be locked, no?"

"We can break a window or two" Thanos suggested, but then shook the idea off, realizing they didn't really have anything to break the window with. "Well.. while we were running I saw a car with its door open, like right on the side of the building. I guess it's safe for us to go." Mi-na added, and they both immediately agreed. "We can get going, then. Get the car and drive off somewhere." It was a good idea, staying away from the suburbs. Once decided, the three of them walked around the complex, looking for a back door or something that could lead them outside.

Attempt after attempt, eventually they found the door. Nam-gyu went first, and the car was indeed there. Mi-na checked for the keys, Thanos was on watch right on the corner, and Nam-gyu was checking what contents were inside the car.

His brows furrowed as he saw two bags inside, they looked in a pretty stable condition. "Hey, Mi-n—" 

He couldn't even really express his findings and worries before he head a gun load behind them, making him freeze on spot. He stared at Mi-na who stared back at him in shock, she stared past his shoulder, looking nervous. 

"Who are the three of you and what are you doing here?"

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Renee rapp (sorry for spelling) having a sibling who has gender dysphoria and her being a comforting sister and maybe writing a song to try help them?

I'll Be There

|| Reneé Rapp x platonic!nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; heavy descriptions of dysphoria from reader, reader struggling to sleep dealing with anxiety/stress, Reneé concerned about reader, hurt/comfort

|| Summary; when reader's feeling down about their gender, Reneé comes over to comfort her sibling.

Requests open!

Started; october 30th

Finished; october 30th

~~~

3;00am. Another rough night. Your thoughts plagued you with reminders about who you really were. How you weren't born the way you wanted to be. A constant stabbing feeling in your mind that never seemed to go away. It made you feel sick to your stomach, your sleeps restless. You tossed around in your bed, trying to get comfortable despite the mental thorn in your side until you finally gave up on sleep. Reaching over for your phone, you called your sister. Knowing full well that it was nearing 4;00am by this point. The blaring glow of your clock on your bedside table a constant reminder of the late hour.

When your sister answered, her voice was groggy and laced with sleep. You could tell you'd just woken up Reneé by the sound of her rasp and you felt bad. But you felt like she was the only one who even remotely understood what you were going through," Y/N?" She asked.

You fought back the tears as you tried to voice your thoughts to your popstar sibling," I- I can't sleep." You murmured, that was all you had to say for Reneé to feel concern flood through her. She was already concerned as it was, given how late it had been and that you only ever called her this late when you really needed something. She sat up in bed, swinging her feet over the edge as she mentally debated whether you would need her to come to you or not.

"What's wrong?" Reneé asked, you could hear the concern in her tone mixed in with the sleep that laced her voice.

"Can you come over? I know it's late, I'm sorry- but I keep getting caught in my head and I just- need you." You rambled out, unable to say the full reason why you had called her. You'd probably tell her about the dysphoria later, but.. you just couldn't right now. It was still too fresh in your mind.

"I'll be there, just give me a few minutes, yeah?" Reneé's voice was soft, she was always soft with you. And beyond protective. She knew you were going through a lot, being nonbinary wasn't easy. Reneé tried to make sure she was there every step of the way. She got herself out of bed and made herself look decent enough. Clothes, teeth brushed, just the basics. When she finally got to your place, it was nearing 4;45am. The hours weren't ideal, but for you? Reneé would lose as much sleep as she needed to make sure you were okay.

She didn't even knock, having her own key to your apartment she opened the door. Reneé's obviously been to your place a number of times for various occasions and hang outs, so she had no problem finding her way to your room. Reneé gently opened the door and saw you curled up in your blankets, you'd clearly been crying. She could see the fresh streaks on your face. Reneé frowned and walked over, settling herself beside you as her hand rested on your knee.

"Reneé.." You mumbled with a little pout, looking up at your sister. Her frown became a gentle smile as you looked at her, her eyes full of sympathy. Reneé shifted herself to be closer to you, holding you in her arms.

"Do you wanna talk?" She asked carefully and you nodded. Feeling ready; though you took a breath. Getting your thoughts together.

"I just... been really struggling with my gender. It makes me feel- sick, like something's wrong.. I don't know." You mumbled, Reneé's fingers gently brushed against your arms as she listened to you. Her head resting against the side of yours.

"Y/N.." She whispered, glancing down at you as she thought carefully about what to say. Reneé hated to see you struggle this much, to know it was causing you this much pain. She was beyond grateful though that you reached out to her. Feeling relief that you trusted her as much as you did. "Do you want comfort or advice?"

"Comfort.." You replied, burying yourself against her. You could feel as she held you a little tighter but you made no complaints. It was exactly what you needed from her.

"I think.. you need to let your mind rest. You're stressed about the little things but you're already perfect the way you are. You can be nonbinary and still present femme or masc. It doesn't make you any less valid or less nonbinary. There is no set look for nonbinary, despite what the media may push. That's why it's nonbinary, right?" Reneé looked into your eyes and you listened to her every word. Taking in what she was telling you. It helped. You always got stuck on the media representation of nonbinary. Forgetting that that's only one version. There is no set way to be nonbinary. Or genderfluid. Or anything. That's the beauty of it. It was set to you. Your preferences. Nobody else's opinions should matter. It was your gender.

You looked into her eyes and managed a small smile, feeling yourself relax against her. "Thanks, Neé... I forget about that." You murmured and she nodded.

"Always." Reneé murmured, keeping you close against her as you finally let yourself fully relax. Feeling as your mind drifted off into sleep.

When you awoke the next morning, Reneé was still there. Your apartment was cleaned thanks to her, it'd been getting a little bad lately cause you haven't had the time or energy. So she did some cleaning.

She walked into your room a moment after you woke up and smiled when she saw you awake." How you feeling?" Reneé asked. You gave her a gentle nod, not having the energy to talk yet but she didn't mind. Reneé knew you struggled with waking up in the morning. "I wanted to wait until you were feeling a little better before I showed you this.. but I think you might like it." She sat down beside you and pulled out her phone, you watched her with curiosity. Head rested on Reneé's shoulder.

She went to her files and started playing a song you hadn't heard before. "I wrote this with you in mind. It's about gender struggles and it's meant to like.. provide comfort. Both for you and other people." As the song played, it reminded you a bit of 23. With the way she sings her lyrics and the music in the background. Your eyes watered a bit and looked to Reneé. Yeah, it was just what you needed.

"Thank you.. that's- absolutely perfect, Neé." Reneé relaxed at your words; having wondered what you would think. That made her feel good about it. If you liked it, other people might too.

"I was thinking about calling it 'Y/N' to dedicate it to you." Reneé explained, your smile widened. A song with your name?

"That's fine with me." You nodded, she mirrored your smile and held you close again. You had a pretty amazing sister.

[irrlicht-writes]

Behind-the-scenes hc thingies for Cash or Check! I probably forgot like half of them, lol.

Are they hc's when it's my own fanfic...?

-Alastor dislikes sex -Alastor didn't start out liking kissing, but kissing Vox makes his lips tingle and that's quite interesting let's keep doing it -He likes feeling weight on top of him (Vox optional) someone should introduce him to weighted blankets -He likes sleeping on top of Vox so he can hear/feel his heartbeat (Vox not optional, sadly) -He keeps everything Vox gave him, even if he might forget he has it in the first place -He doesn't mind following in a dance but he usually ends up leading anyway even if he keeps doing the woman's steps -He used to go to every opening night of Vox's movies and talked about them in his radio show when he knew Vox wouldn't be listening -Not that Vox will ever know, but when there was a competitor, they would "miraculously" disappear -He loves Vox, but he doesn't have the words to say it -If things had gone differently, he might've been open to having sex with Vox one day willingly -He has stolen some of Vox's clothes but has never worn them (he's unsure why he took them it just felt right) -He dreams about eating Vox sometimes -Vox is special to him, even more so than Niffty -Alastor doesn't know how or when he fell in love, Vox was just something entertaining/interesting at first before that shifted -Vox gets forgiven for everything, he can literally do no wrong (that doesn't mean he won't get shamed to oblivion for mistakes it's just that Alastor will forgive and move on) -He can yap about Vox for hours and not realise what he sounds like (Husk is a prefered suffering victim) -He has gender dysphoria (usually it's hardly an issue but lately it's been getting worse I wonder why) -As a child, he killed fifteen dogs in eight months' time -He tried to kill himself twice but didn't succeed -He's far-sighted but due to convience, he'd wear his glasses all the time -Alastor's initial, unspoken reaction to Vox's first proposal was "Are you fucking insane?" -In the same vein, he got a ring custom-made for Vox (it's white-blue with shark motif) -Alastor rarely ever gets in the mood and when he does it's more like a chore and Vox is not required to assist (Murder only gets him in the mood for more murder) -He indulges Niffty in her roleplay sometimes (pretending to be the big bad evil king with her as his princess) (Husk usually serves as the loyal royal steed (he's not being asked)) -Alastor likes soft things, although he's not entirely aware of it -He's a tease and likes to flirt but he's also prone to just walking off in a conversation (Flirting only goes one way, not the other) -Alastor's favourite position is none of them -He is the last to sleep and the first to wake -Unless Vox is there; when Vox is there Alastor falls asleep as soon as he gets tired

-Vox loves Alastor -He likes it whenever Alastor would put his hands on Vox's chest (it makes him feel big and strong and manly) -He loves how dainty Alastor is -His small waist is making Vox feel things that are not pg13 -Alastor absolutely terrifies him, like a beautiful monster -Vox used to be more creative, but it slowly drained out of him -Rodriguez doesn't work for him anymore, but they still have contact from time to time -Vox had been married with three children he didn't care for and often forgets even existed -He used to coerce young girls to have sex with him -Alastor is the first one he's tried his bisexual side with -He loves Al, but he also loves Val -When having sex with Val, he sometimes accidentally calls him Al (which Val often just hears as his own name so Vox's screen is spared destruction) -Vox's favourite position is all of them -Even while surrounded by highly skilled technicians, Vox usually only trusts himself and Alastor to handle the tech in his head -He has more wet dreams about Alastor than he likes to admit -He loves the soft fur on Alastor's body -While he won't pry, he'd really like to know the stories of Alastor's numerous scars - they are a part of the man he loves -Vox loves Alastor so, so much -He's not into feet at all, but Alastor's hooves are a completely different thing -His clothes on Alastor drive him insane -Calling Alastor a girl is a little like a game to him - he likes to be a big man -He doesn't really understand Alastor most of the time but he hardly lets that stop him -He'll never tell anyone but Alastor squeaks quietly when he sleeps

-Niffty's human name was Alice and she got adopted from an orphanage when she was seven -Neither of them know it, or will ever find out, but Niffty is in fact Alastor's biological daughter -Alastor yapped about Vox on three seperate occasions, so Rosie had the man investigated before concluding that her bestie had, yet again, went and picked up a stray -Velvette is a lesbian and considers Bunny to be "one of the girls" -Velvette and Alastor play HellVille together

-Everything you see posted is the first draft (let's not count notes) which probably makes me a bad author :) -I also probably forgot about half of what I wanted to write here :)

[2000sangel]

Hi! I was curious if you were open to writing a little bit of angst/fluff with Angel Dust who is with a transmasc reader who is having a really hard time with his gender dysphoria bc of how many people have told him things like "you'll never be a real man" among other bad transphobic things, and the reader is just in a really bad headspace since Angel is gay and he thinks he doesn't really like him since he's not a "real man" and it ends with Angel comforting him and reassuring him? (totally not projecting at alllllllll. Please don't feel pressured to write anything on this if it makes you uncomfortable though!)

Hello! Of course I came up with something for you, as I am transmasc myself so I could really throw all of my thoughts in there and make this somewhat realistic, ahah!

WARNING for : transphobia and heavy dysphoria - Angel is here to the rescue though :)

*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.* *･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.* *･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.*

Heart to Heart

A date.

Your lovely boyfriend, Angel, had invited you on a little intimate date in his room for Valentine’s day; just you, him, cosy clothes, a sappy movie playing on TV and a few snacks to chew on during the evening. Usually you wouldn’t be against this at all, it actually sounds like a wonderful night, throw in there a couple kisses and one might even call it perfect – but as of right now, everything you’re trying on looks wrong.

The first shirt you try on looks wrong, your favourite sweater looks wrong, the overly comfortable sweater Angel himself gifted you for your first year anniversary looks and feels wrong. Actually, the right words for it would be that none of these make you look flat on the chest enough.

No matter how much you tuck the top part of your outfit into your pants, or how much you try to adjust your chest into your already uncomfortable binder – just like those assholes had said under the pictures you posted on your social media earlier in the day, you will never look like nor be a real man.

It’s okay though, because there’s at least one person who would never doubt your identity in this Hell of a place, and that person is your boyfriend, Angel.

...right?

With a deep breath, you open your wardrobe for what feels like the hundredth time this evening, and carefully scan your options. You have your mind set on changing your whole outfit, not just the top part, now.

The pair of pants Charlie gifted you a while ago, hoping they’d be the right size since she only asked you about it once: while you manage to wear them on most days, they’re too much on the skinny side today, they show your hips’ shape and you don’t like it. Are they even masculine enough?

That one sweatshirt you just got, the one that’s your favourite color: it’s just too tight, it’s going to show your binder bump. As if there’s a way to fully hide that.

You could wear comfortable shorts – no, they’d reveal too much, show the shapes that a real man shouldn’t have. And that your boyfriend especially would not want to see tonight.

While rummaging through your wardrobe even more you try to keep your mind away from any thought of Angel not accepting you for who you are; it wouldn’t make sense, you’ve been dating for a while now, and surely he wouldn’t be so dumb to keep the relationship going if he didn’t like his partner.

He has also expressed how much he loves you many times in the past, showed signs of affection he denies others, accepted your affection countless times.

And yet, something in your brain just isn’t right today. All because of a few rude comments. How stupid can you be?

You give one last glimpse at the mirror on your right, eyeing the body you’ve grown accustomed to hate. But tonight it seems like your hatred is even more persistent than usual.

You love Angel so much, there’s no denying that. You wish you could just dress up and get out of your room. It’s probably too late anyways at this point, you’ve spent an eternity looking for the perfect outfit that doesn’t exist without even looking at the time, and now it’s too late to even try to show up in front of his room.

Three distinct knocks at your door distract you from your negative thoughts;

“Sugar? Are you still in there?”

It’s Angel’s voice, it holds a preoccupied tone. With a quick look at the clock you realize it’s been past half an hour since the original time for your date.

You reply, meek and defeated; “Yes, sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay, can I open the door?”

You can’t help but notice how gentle and careful he sounds when he talks to you, in comparison to how he talks to others; it gives you the courage to answer his question, though you still hide your body with your arms as much as you can before doing so.

“Yes, come in.”

Anthony carefully steps inside, his brows furrowed in concern though he manages a soft smiles as soon as he spots you sitting on your bed.

“Hey Toots, I was worried you know? You’re still choosing your outfit? Ha-“

Before he can finish his sentence you blurt out yours without thinking about it twice, your eyes barely holding in tears;

“Anthony, I know this is stupid because you literally just invited me on a date but- do you actually like me? I was just thinking...”

There’s a pause as you’re struggling to find the right words. Your boyfriend knows to wait until you’ve found them, so he gives you a few seconds to formulate your sentence.

“...This.” you gesture at yourself, your body; “Are you okay with this? I’m not a real man, can’t even get top surgery yet. I’m sorry, it’s just...hard to believe that you would see me as one sometimes, especially today.”

You struggle to look into his eyes, fearing his response, but once you find the guts to do so you’re met with nothing but love in them. Anthony pulls you closer with one of his arms, and you immediately find comfort into the warmth his body emanates, letting your tears finally roll down your cheeks.

“Baby, I’ve got to say,” he chuckles, “That is a bit silly, of course I’m okay with you being trans. We’ve been dating for what, a year? And almost three months, I’m so good at remembering – I wouldn’t be with you for this much if I wasn’t okay with it. The only thing I would be is a huge dick actually.”

With the arm that’s lovingly draped across your back he lightly shakes you around at the end of his sentence, which makes you smile.

“So...” you trail off, shyness suddenly taking over.

“Yes, I love you and I think you’re very handsome. Kiss?”

You’re a little surprised by the question in such a moment, but you’d never deny your lover a kiss especially after he comforted you on a subject you feel very vulnerable on. Once you nod though, you’re surprised to find out that Anthony’s little kisses end up landing on your tear stained cheeks, as if this was his way of drying them up.

“I love you too!” you return between giggles and kisses.

He pulls you into a hug, enveloping you with all his four arms, and you bury your face into his chest – he’s wearing what you consider to be his softest sweater, a pink chenille one he always wears when he wants to be both comfortable and cute.

“You still wanna watch something together? You can take some time to pick something comfortable, darlin’.” He reassures you after a while, and you accept his proposal.

You decide to let him stay as you look through your wardrobe with a clearer mind now, even though sometimes you still let an occasional ‘this would make me look less masculine’ slip out. But Anthony always has the right remark to make you feel sliiightly better;

“See, I didn’t pick this because it’s too... tight. Too bad since it’s one of my favourites.”

“Don’t let that stop ya handsome, you’ve got me drooling and looking at you with heart eyes whenever you wear it.”

You can’t help but laugh at that one, though.

“Hey! I’m serious!!”

“Shush Tony! Don’t make me laugh when the rest of the hotel is sleeping!”

You do settle on something warm after a while, and with your boyfriend offering you encouraging words and looks it takes you half the time. He reassures you once again that he loves you before you two leave your room to go relax in his – it’s much more equipped for this kind of thing, being filled with plushies and fuzzy blankets -.

You spend a lovely little Valentine’s Day together, with your limbs intertwined and exchanging little kisses once in a while. Anthony has the cute habit of giving you one on the forehead every single time the characters on screen share one, you find this and many other things about him very endearing... just as he does with you and your habits.

[genderisareligion]

There are theories that try to explain prevalence of TIMs in the past and TIFs today, but I feel like they fail to explain the shift itself. Do you have any thoughts why did it happen?

I have my opinion on Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria (ROGD) but I find it best to source doctors who've researched it on this topic

Section A is full of evidence towards ROGD

My opinion is that this is the result of internet porn culture being allowed to be the cesspool it is for this long and the current flavor of feminist backlash to our gains in the late 2000s and 2010s, such as lesbians gaining marriage equality. In America at least we had an outspoken well educated Black first lady for the first time and I was on Tumblr over a decade ago and standard global misandry feminism was considered cool. Now there are eight million code words for the word female and eight million pronouns and microidentities and "misandry is the first step to being a TERF just so you know!!" lol. Lesbians didn't even get to enjoy marriage equality before suddenly we were witches to be burned at the stake for not accepting dick, like suddenly we'd been transported to 2002 and I was back in church.

Many women don't identify with the ideal coomer's "woman." Many don't want to imitate porn, and many men are asking for that now, either in the way that Hollywood was been going more the way of soft porn these last few decades or in their personal relationships, and more women are single now than ever, yes? ("""Male loneliness crisis""") The impact of that many hours of rape footage, sometimes of children, being widely available to young minds is not being taken seriously. The impact of comparing yourself to those women, hearing all the men and boys you know discuss them like trading cards. Wanting to be the furthest thing from that, especially as someone same sex attracted, hating your body because it's not surgically altered.

I understand why Gen Z flocks to gender. I considered "coming out as nonbinary" briefly myself in 2014. But now I just know I have DID, and what happened to me as a child made me want to leave my body, and I'd rather get to the root of that with therapy and quieting my "male parts" instead of further dissociating and considering parts of my own self "other." The eating disorder as a Black woman has been about trying to get some sense of control back, having no curves that are visible to men, as I was told as a teen things like I was "lying about being a virgin because of my hips."

I think if sexual harrassment from boys was as bad as it was in my day before social media took off it must be hell now and a lot of these TIFs as girls were/are experiencing various forms of dissociation from exposure to so much violent misogyny, online and off, which can't be treated with surgery and further dissociating.

[jackdaniel69nice]

Everyone has been making tokoyami hc posts but I have never seen one for dark shadow so here you go

Pangender but would accept being called Genderfluid (Idk how to describe it, they want all the genders at once, like gender hoarding) Uses any pronouns except it

Pansexual but a preference for girls (they are a simp)

Polyamorous

Hates feet, will start gagging if they see them, tokoyami uses this against them when they are being a little shit

Had an imaginary friend growing up called Susanoo (yes THAT Susanoo)

They are very BPD or HPD coded to me

Chronic pain from lights because I’m crazy

Can hear the night calling them (no I will not elaborate)

Eyes are very sensitive, they are another weak spot if you can manage to hit them but shadow doesn’t really let people near them. They are SO BAD about taking eye drops STOP SQUIRMING YOU LITTLE-

Makes sculptures like clay or paper machete creations that help them express their excessive emotions

Likes to play sports but has never been given the chance before because you can’t use your quirks (Fumi has never liked sports and would rather curl under a tree with a book thanks)

Loves looking at the stars, they have all the constellations memorized, also has a telescope

Very shit music tastes, their playlists are all over the place

Will emulate/mimic the behaviors of people around them (with the girls they are cute and sweet, unlike with the boys where they are a mean nasty bastard)

Hopeless romantic (really really hopeless cause no one is ever going to date a quirk am I right lol)

ADHD

Likes bugs. Both to look at and to eat. (They prefer slimy ones like worms 🪱 🪱 🪱). They know like every bug in existence ever.

PTSD flashbacks and missing memories/blackouts during some of their breakdowns (rampages) where they commit “horrific acts”

Very creative at insults, also with nicknames, which they hand out like candy

Loves to pull pranks on people. One time they put kaminari’s mattress on the roof…while he was sleeping in it

Has comfort items like a stuffed animal and blanket that they use in their nest

Dysphoria from their appearance and would like a human body, maybe a preference for a female physique, also real feathers

If tokoyami is a Victorian goth then dark shadow is like pastel goth. Lots more purples than blacks, also they wear skirts because 1 they’re pretty and go swish swish 2 they don’t have any legs :|

Likes to hunt little creatures

Has definitely killed someone before (they’re just a silly little guy leave them alone 😔👉👈)

Has a lot of cool hats

Will make jokes to fumikage all the time in his head, they are literally the funniest character and no one even knows it

Also says the most bat shit insane things you’ve ever heard just to see peoples reactions, they think it’s hilarious

Extremely claustrophobic, no more cages, no under ground, not even an elevator. They have been better about this lately but they used to panic immediately and go in a rampage trying to get out (for context Tokoyami’s body feels like a cage to them, and tokoyami would keep them locked up for hours or even days so now they have trauma~~~)

[defectivevillain]

darling i do

pairing: Percival Graves/Reader

The reader experiences gender dysphoria and is implied to be transmasculine/nonbinary/gnc. no pronouns are used and race is ambiguous.

summary: You’re having a bad day, but you don’t want to burden Percival with the details. Unfortunately for you, he is rather perceptive.

word count: 1.4k | ao3 version

This is extremely self indulgent, but I hope my fellow transmasc/nb/gnc folks find solace in this piece. :)

also i'm using this gif again and no one can stop me.

warnings: gender dysphoria

You hear the exact moment Percival gets home—not because he’s loud, but because you’re sitting in the living room waiting for him. You greet him with a soft smile, pretending the gesture doesn’t take an unreasonable amount of effort. “Hi, Percival,” you remark. 

“Hello,” he remarks, the tension seeping from his shoulders as he steps inside and closes the door behind him. Percival takes his bag off and hangs it on the hook near the entrance, before doing the same with his coat. “How was your day?” he asks.

“Alright,” you remark, pushing past all the self-deprecating thoughts running through your mind. You don’t want to burden Percival with the details. “How about you?”

“It was good,” Percival replies, bending down to remove his shoes. “The department’s starting to get pretty busy—sorry I’ve been home late these past few days.” His lips are pressed in a thin line and there’s an apologetic look on his face. 

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault,” you’re quick to reassure him. Percival is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, after all. His work is important. “And don’t forget—we have leftovers from takeout the other night.”

“Oh, right,” he nods, taking a few steps forward. “Thank you.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead before walking to the fridge. You watch him for a moment, before settling back on the couch. The television is on, but you find it hard to focus. A maelstrom of apprehension, dejection, and dysphoria is swirling around you. 

You don’t want to acknowledge your feelings. Unfortunately for you, Percival is rather perceptive. He’s an Auror, after all. Not to mention, the man has high emotional intelligence. You’re not sure why you even bother trying to hide from him in the first place. 

For an immeasurable amount of time, you let the light from the television wash over you. At some point, you hear Percival get up from the table and wash his dishes. Before you can attempt to slip away, he’s standing before you. “Something wrong, love?” Percival asks, moving to sit next to you on the couch. His attentive gaze nearly makes you crumble right then and there. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“It’s nothing,” you murmur, looking down at your clasped hands. You bite the inside of your cheek and keep your thoughts hidden. Somehow, your feelings must show on your face regardless, because Percival frowns. 

The man places a hand on yours, prompting you to look over at him. “If it’s making you feel like this…” he breaks off, concern written all over his face, “it has to be something.” You still can’t find the words. Your tongue feels glued to the roof of your mouth; you can’t even begin to describe the confusing torrent of emotions rushing through you right now. 

Percival is stubborn, though. “What is it?” he implores. 

You inhale slowly, feeling as if a giant spotlight is searing through your skin. Sentiments of inadequacy and wrongness refuse to leave, clinging to your skin uncomfortably. You don’t feel right today. “I don’t like my hair,” you eventually answer. Indeed, you’d spent the better part of the walk home from work looking at the people passing you, wondering why you couldn’t look like them. 

“Why?” Percival asks. He doesn’t look disbelieving or skeptical—he simply wants to understand. 

“I don’t know,” you choke out. In reality, you do know. You love your hair, you really do, but for the past few days, you’ve been perceived as the opposite gender more times than you can count. While you’ve already taken steps to socially transition, it doesn’t feel like enough. Your hair seems like the easiest thing to change, and your dysphoria has narrowed in on it as the source of the problem. If your hair were shorter, you’d look better. If your hair were shorter, you wouldn’t be mistaken as someone you’re not. 

“You sure?” Percival continues. His hand remains on yours, providing a reassuring pressure. His gaze hasn’t wavered since he first sat down next to you. The recognition makes your eyes begin to burn. You stare at him, before silently leaning forward and embracing him. Percival is quick to reciprocate, tugging you closer until your head is nearly buried in his shoulder. 

“I’m not sure,” you whisper against his shoulder. It comes out muffled, but Percival seems to understand regardless (as he always does).

“What can I do to help?” he questions. That is just one of the many reasons why you love Percival. Rather than scrutinizing your feelings or trying too hard to understand your experiences, he focuses on assisting you above all. He doesn’t treat you like a puzzle that needs to be solved, doesn’t make you feel irrational or unreasonable for having bad days. 

“My hair,” you choke out. “Can you help me cut it?” 

Percival blinks. “Of course,” he responds without hesitation. He places a hand on your shoulder briefly. “Let’s move to the bathroom,” Percival says, eyes flitting to the door down the hall. You get up from your seat and walk over there, knowing he’ll follow you. 

Moments later, you find yourself sitting on the nearby chair with Percival standing over you. His gaze wanders your face before settling on your hair. “What length are you thinking?” he asks. You’re briefly overwhelmed by appreciation, at the way he immediately moved to help you in whatever way he knew how. You forget that he’s waiting for an answer until he repeats himself.

“Short,” you say, avoiding his eyes. 

“Very helpful,” Percival smiles mirthfully. You huff past the tightness in your chest. “How short?” 

“I don’t know,” you respond helplessly. “Just… really short. Almost a buzzcut.” 

The air is quiet for a few seconds. “Are you sure?” Percival asks. You know he’s not questioning your decision; rather, he’s clarifying that you want him to be the one to do it. 

“Yeah,” you say, your throat feeling tight. There’s no one I trust more than you, you think. 

“Alright,” he says. “Ready?” Percival stills and holds his wand up towards you. You nod silently and he takes a deep breath. “Crinus Muto.” You close your eyes and ignore the strange chilling sensation that runs up your spine, knowing it to be a mere side effect of the spell. It should only take a few seconds, but you keep your eyes closed for a few moments after. For some reason, you’re scared to look. Fear strikes through you as you imagine how horrible you could look. What if you don’t have the right face shape? What if this haircut just makes everything worse? What if—?

“You can look now,” Percival says gently. 

You stand up and slowly open your eyes. For a moment, the light assaults your eyes and you’re squinting. Your vision clears soon enough, leaving you to take in your new haircut. “I—” you break off, feeling your lips pulling at the edges as you stare at yourself in the mirror, “I love it.” You’re smiling now. You bring a hand up to your hair and continue looking in the mirror. Your reflection looks… like you. You look more comfortable, more confident. You can’t hide the grin on your face. For a minute or two, you simply stare at your reflection in awe. As you’re looking in the mirror, you accidentally make eye contact with Percival, who is looking at you with an unreadable expression.  “What?” you ask self-consciously. 

He blinks for a moment, as if waking from a trance. A smile grows on his face. “You look wonderful,” Percival admits, reaching out to run a thumb along your temple and across your new short hair. You don’t say anything, but your skepticism must show on your face, because Percival is quick to continue. 

“I’m serious,” he maintains. Percival brings his hands to your face again, turning your head to the side to get a better look at your new haircut. He brings you back with a delicate hand on your jaw and you feel flames race across your skin as you see the expression on his face. Percival looks absolutely lovestruck. Smitten. Surely that isn’t for you—surely that look isn’t because of you. “You look… incredibly handsome,” he confesses. At first, you suspect that he just said that to make you feel better. But the way he’s looking at you—the way he’s holding you—convinces you that the compliment is entirely genuine. 

“...Thanks,” you remark hesitantly. And you’re sure Percival knows that you’re thanking him for more than just the haircut. You’re thanking him for understanding you, in a way few others have even bothered to. You’re thanking him for his endless compassion, his determination, and his unwavering faith in you. 

Percival smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Any time, love,” he promises. You take comfort in the unshakeable knowledge that he truly means it.

Me: *includes pet names a total of two times in this story* Also me: this feels like too much.

grAHHHHHHHH where is Percival Graves. I need him like SpongeBob needs water.

anyway, thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian

[redditreceipts]

i’ve been looking into a lot of “terf” ideas lately, and it’s been so eye-opening. i was, until recently, what you might call an ally to tras. when it comes to challenging terf ideas, i notice that tras rarely ever even do that. they would just call for violence against these women, which i think was the first thing that made me “peak”. the left has become so genuinely misogynistic (it was always an issue but it seems even more acceptable now) under the guise of trans rights activism. even tras seem to embrace mra ideology on here. i’m constantly seeing posts from them (especially trans men) criticizing misandry like it’s on the same level as misogyny. literally anything is a “terf dog whistle now ( ex. “female rage” using the word “sexism” or even flippantly saying “i hate men”) i’ve also seen so many perverted interpretations of gender from trans people. so many trans women seem to be weeaboos who became obsessed with anime girls, or silence women when we talk about the hardships of growing up female because we make being a woman sound bad. it’s all so disgusting to me and i’m heartbroken because i fear i’m no longer an empathetic person. i can’t find it in me to support these people. i feel like you still have some empathy towards the idea of being trans, and i wanted to know how you were able to do this? so sorry for ranting in your inbox but you seemed very approachable from other responses

hey! first of all, thank you and it's cool that you are here :) I have also been a trans ally for the longest time, but it's become harder and harder to defend them, even though God knows I tried.

I just want to tell you that you disagreeing on a political discussion is not a sign that you lack empathy. It also doesn't mean that you hate the group of people that you disagree with.

I actually do think that the gender critical position is the more empathetic one. For me, being gender critical includes being empathetic to detransitioners, being empathetic to women who feel unsafe, being empathetic to feminine men to which it is suggested that they are actually trans women and to masc women who experience the same. It's being empathetic to people with gender dysphoria who decide to transition but still recognise their own biological sex and to trans people who disagree with the current discourse as well.

And in the end, being empathetic means seeing someone else's struggle and respecting it, but it doesn't mean that you necessarily agree with them on how to resolve it.

so yeah, I wouldn't be worried about not being empathetic enough if I were you, but I do get where you are coming from! Here's a cute cat for you :)

[gerrydelano]

Btw, i wanted to ask: what makes you hc Gerry as transfem? I'm more of a nb/transmasc gerry leaning person but i love reading about different interpretations of characters and you are obviously very passionate About it (feel free to ignore if its an uncomfortable question, there's no judgement behind it-im just curious.)

hello hello! no worries, i didn't perceive any judgment here, this is all in good fun! my gerry is on the nonbinary side of transfem anyway (which to me is an important thing to portray in general) but it is special to me both for logical reasons and just because it just feels so healing to me. i wrote a big meta about it here a really long time ago, and answered a more recent ask here, so i'll mostly just link those to avoid being too repetitive.

however, to me (just me personally!) the logic comes in as like... mary calls him gerard. she doesn't exactly strike me as a supportive ally parent who would gender her trans son correctly. eric also refers to gerry as his son, and he died when gerry was like 2, which is a little early for a kid to know they're trans. thirdly, he has a canon preference for a nickname that Isn't the name his mother calls him, which to me can signify dysphoria, and that chosen name happens to be a little more androgynous! plenty of women use the same nickname.

i don't believe canon gerry would have really had much of a chance to explore this side of him, as i also just believe he's a late bloomer, so to me it usually comes out easier in AUs where he's able to live for once. live free of his oppressive mother and her expectations of A Son And Heir, live free of the violence of his childhood and the things she made him do, live as a softer person. i think he would benefit from letting himself be softer, i think he would feel healthier and stronger and more himself if he gained some distance from The Son And Heir archetype forced on him from Pretty Much Birth. there are things to be said about what's expected of "sons" and how awfully people are often treated to try and mold them into the right kind of son, and that's something that gerry's story strikes close to for me.

all of that, and i also just find tenderness in this HC that fills my heart with love! i have gotten to write some really beautiful moments of exploration and intimacy and solidarity through this portrayal of him and it's just been so warm. so many people, especially on this site and especially fucking lately, have been expressing ideas that suggesting that someone might be transfem is inappropriate compared to suggesting that someone might be transmasc, that being transfem is a bad thing or a curse or an insult, and ngl it's all such bullshit.

we need kinder and more loving portrayals of transfeminine people of all walks just in general. and sometimes you just get the egg vibes off of somebody and it's okay. so, yes! i simply think estrogen could have saved her.

[night-willows]

My brain has decided that Asakura is trans for some reason and I am using that as an excuse to infodump about him again (Also just how Asakura’s character pertains to societal gender roles. And it just kind of devolves into a general Asakura character analysis somewhat because I got sidetracked)

CW: spoilers as they pertain to Asakura’s character (including true route spoilers), all the potentially triggering themes of Asakura’s character (talking about pedophilia and POCD/OCD in general mostly and religious theming), discussions of transphobia and gender dysphoria, talk about sex as it pertains to POCD and gender dysphoria, one minor clean dishes spoiler randomly mentioned because this goes on far too many tangents lmao

Hyperfixated on Asakura again and the brainworms have started telling me he’s transgender because my music taste lately is mostly that specific genre of loud music made by transfems (Ada Rook, Black Dresses, Stomach Book, etc) and too many of their songs fit him. Songs that are about being discriminated against for being trans fit his story because transphobes see us as predators. ANYWAY my brain got confused about this and now will not stop making up more reasons why he is trans coded so I am going to explain myself to the probably two people who will get it. For context I am coming at this as a trans man myself and someone who generally thinks a lot about gender roles in society because of that! Also! I list the songs that made me think this at the bottom of this post so if you just want to skim through my lengthy infodump and scroll to the bottom to listen to those to get an idea of what the hell I’m talking about you can!

First off. His gender is exactly this to me

I think he’s some sort of agender/nonbinary and does not know!! I don’t know when he’d have the time to figure it out he’s going through a lot!! That is why I am mostly still going to use he/him throughout this post, for sake of ease (hard to talk about a character in a fandom using different pronouns than the rest of the fandom uses for them) and also I don’t think he’d get dysphoric about pronouns, if he ever WERE to figure it out imo he’d use any pronouns. I think he mostly gets dysphoric about the societal role of a man being forced onto him when it feels so unlike who he truly is. I mean specifically the societal role of all men being awful, capable of horrible crimes, people to be afraid of. Now I know people who say things like “all men are evil” are people who have been harmed by misogyny/the patriarchy and are aware that it’s not LITERALLY all men who are bad people. BUT there are people like Asakura who this stigma affects badly too, he’s got a terrible case of harm ocd, hearing people say shit like that while being seen as a man is obviously gonna get to him. That coupled with how many people are afraid of HIM because of the rumors, he can’t distance himself from that and tell himself he’s a good man so he’s not who they’re talking about. He’s the kind of man they hate, he’s the kind of man they’re afraid of, and he hates being seen like that more than anything. Now obviously this narrative could be true and he could still be a cis man but. I just think it makes it so much more interestingly fucked up if this role of a man was just thrusted on him since he was born and he spent his whole life being told he was a man by everyone around him and just accepting that but deep down it never really felt right. I mostly think it’d make sense if he was agender, but the type of agender who could go their whole life not knowing it because they are content enough with letting people perceive them how they wish. Except, he’s not content with it anymore because his thoughts about being perceived as a man are getting so wrapped up in his thoughts of being perceived as a pedophile that he’s just started to hate both of them? Most of this is unconscious, he doesn’t think about it hard enough to realize but this IS what his gender dysphoria looks like for him. I also think in general he is VERY sexually repressed, because it’s hard for him to think about sex at all without accidentally getting intrusive thoughts about children and then he ends up distressed and in an ocd thought spiral about it so he copes by just… avoiding anything sexual entirely as much as possible because he doesn’t want that to happen again. This is something I thought about before but I think it can pertain to gender dysphoria too? Lots of trans people will feel sex repulsed sometimes when the dysphoria is bad, because there’s societal gender roles placed on our bodies and what kind of sex we’re “supposed” to have with them and it can just… get too icky to think about for too long when you are in a bad headspace. Asakura’s idea of that is just even further skewed by the fact that his ocd is making him see being seen as a man sexually as being seen as a future sex offender and he cannot handle that thought at all, so this specific type of dysphoria is very extreme for him. Note that people with intrusive thoughts like this and with dysphoria can of course still be sexual sometimes when they are in a healthier mindset but. I think at the time in his life we see Asakura in canon his pocd is at its worst so he’s not really getting many breaks to have a good mindset. I think he needs to go to therapy and unlearn all this shit and get medicated so that he can start to heal!! I think that’d help out his mindset on all this stuff and how he sees gender A LOT to the point that he might even get enough insight to actually figure out his gender. Even if he’s not a man the way he views being seen as one isn’t healthy whatsoever, and I think working on the ocd aspect there would help with the dysphoria aspect too.

I also think he was at least a little bit groomed by that college professor of his and has trauma from that and that’s affecting how he views men too. That man was someone’s he respected and viewed as a good man, and that view of him was ripped to shreds and completely betrayed as he LITERALLY TOOK HIM TO A CHILD BROTHEL AND COERCED HIM INTO CUTTING A CHILD WHILE HE WAS TOO DRUNK TO KNOW WHAT HE WAS DOING. This event is what traumatized him into developing pocd in the first place. It showed him that even “good” men can turn out to be horrible on the inside. So what if that’s true of him too? Even now that he’s moved to Shinkoumi and is seen as a “good man” by most of his patients and their families what if he’s lying to all of them? Misleading them like his professor did to him? Pocd is often developed due to past trauma from this type of grooming. How far it went outside of canon material can be left up to the imagination but. Even strictly going by only what we know, he learn that the teacher he looked up to he found out was likely a pedophile (why else would he know of that place? I think it was implied he probably went himself before?) and tried to rope him into it, using his respect for him to his advantage to get his inhibitions down and manipulate him into doing something horrible. Even just that is traumatic as hell.

ALSO let me tell you about how I think the societal role expected of a woman, especially when paired with the purity culture aspect that comes from Christianity, fit his character too. I think I might need to tell you about my dad first?? A lot of this aspect of my headcanon is inspired by my dad, I can explain it better if I explain how it relates to them. So, my dad is genderfluid, and repressed this and any sort of queerness in general until their mid/late 40s due to how they were raised. They only realized they were genderfluid after I came out as trans and they did a lot of research on trans people to be as supportive as they could be to me, and accidentally found out that THEY related to a lot of this too. Anyway, they strongly associate their feminine side WITH their role as me and my sister’s parent. They were the stay at home parent, they took care of us and played the stereotypical role of a mother, so they’ve always felt more like a mother to us than a father. They saw their femininity in their caring parental nature, and that’s EXACTLY why I connect Asakura to that same type of femininity, especially being in his 40s and repressing his identity so hard he hasn’t figured it out yet too. I don’t know I just love my dad so it makes me sympathize hard with older queer people just starting to figure things out. Anyway. BASICALLY this part of the headcanon/how Asakura’s character pertains to gender roles is talking about how a woman in society is seen as a caregiver and protecter of children. The exact opposite of how Asakura’s mentally ill brain is boiling down the role of a man as someone who will HURT children. And like. Asakura has such strong instincts to want to protect children I think?? I know he tells Towa he doesn’t want to have kids, but he would have made a great parent and I think he would have WANTED kids, if it weren’t for the pocd. I think he could still get a lot of fulfillment out of that if he was ever able to heal enough to care for a child without hurting his own mental health and putting the child at risk. Like.. obviously I don’t think he’s going to act on his intrusive thoughts but. He can’t be a good caregiver if he’s having them and getting distressed because of his child constantly and maybe trying to avoid interacting with them out of fear. ALSO you saw what happened to Hayato when he was circumstantially thrown into taking care of a child at his worst, he got so delusional about the angel thing that he almost tried to sew wings into him (I think the angel thing is an extreme case of a compulsion to the pocd, if he convinces himself he sees children as pure angels it calms his intrusive thoughts/obsessions about them.) Anyway while I think he did this because he was so unwell that he legitimately thought it was the only way to protect him from him from himself, Hayato still almost got really hurt and Towa, while consensually, DID get hurt. So like Asakura would need to do a LOT of healing before ever being responsible for a child most definitely.

But… he does genuinely love children in a normal way, he cares about them a lot. Why do you think he chose to dedicate his life to their care as a pediatrician? Why do you think he tried his best to take care of Hayato when his mother left him with him, even when it was making him feel horrible? That parental/motherly nature of his is the reason he couldn’t let himself just abandon Hayato too when he needed him. I think he didn’t want to be around him any more than he had to of course, I think he only meant it to be a short term thing and was trying to find someone better fit to take care of him because he was scared of what he’d do to him and trying to protect him from that. But Shinkoumi is a dystopian hell and they probably don’t have many good systems set up for orphans. There’s the facility that Shiro grew up in? I guess? But they didn’t seem all that great at like actually getting the kids adopted lmao they just sent him to live on his own at 13. I don’t know if there’s any proper fostering system and I wouldn’t be surprised if even orphanages like Shiro’s were few and far between. Even when Hayato DOES eventually get sent somewhere it’s on the mainland. Asakura was probably having a hard time finding anything and too paranoid to ask for help and get others involved. And… maybe a little worried about if they’ll actually take care of Hayato properly and not just neglect him? And he cares about him and doesn’t want to have to abandon him now that Hayato’s gotten attached to him right after his mother did? And the harm ocd might be spiraling about that too because he knows that that abandonment and being sent to a neglectful orphanage WILL traumatize him and he is just left paralyzed and unable to make a decision on what is best to do because the kid NEEDS a parent, and that’s not an option, but he is seeing Asakura as his parent now and he wishes he could be that for him but he can’t. Hayato’s mother abandoned him and gave him to him, maybe he could be the new mother? Or play the role of a mother? At least for a little bit until he gets someone else to take care of him? I think he tried his very best to do that in the time Hayato was under his care. I think he knows how to take children well, I mean he went to medical school specializing in pediatrics, I’m sure that talks about general childcare at least a bit. He has to know how to tell parents how to care for their children properly, I’m sure he knows enough to take care of a kid himself at least short term too.

ANYWAY I am getting sidetracked just. Also the purity culture part, a lot of Asakura’s character is about wanting to be pure and good in a religious kinda way? Of course purity culture can affect anyone but it’s especially bad in women growing up in religious environments so that’s the connection there. Women are expected to be pure because misogyny. While I think the motherly/caring feminine association reflects his genuine self, the purity culture side of it reflects the compulsions he engages in to convince himself that IS his genuine self and not the “evil man” perception people put onto him. Asakura’s entire character is way more interesting if you look at everything through the lens of an ocd cycle of obsessions and compulsions. The fear and paranoia about being a pedophile is the obsession, the fixation on being “forgiven” and seeing children as angels and wanting to create an angel is the compulsion. So my thought process is wouldn’t it be so cool if I made Asakura’s entire character a metaphor on societal gender roles too?? Using how his pocd functions AS that metaphor?? Being seen as and therefore believing he is a horrible evil man is the obsession, wanting to be a good pure Christian girl and repress any sexual thought (the intrusive ones AND any of them outside of that because he’s started to believe those are evil too), to validate the person he truly is is the compulsion. No this isn’t like “being trans is ocd.” Obviously. It’s a metaphor. I’m using Asakura as a metaphor for being trans. Again I don’t think he consciously thinks about this shit this is just an unconscious thought process that relates to the rest of his character and the rest of his character is mostly about having pocd. AND this is why I feel like it fits him best to truly be agender/nonbinary instead of JUST a woman either. He’s been raised in a society with strict gender roles and is just fixated on both of these roles in different ways while he’s not really either. I DO think he has some femininity to him but in a nonbinary sorta way, like not ALL of that role is fake but like. He needs to unlearn how he sees gender so bad. But I mean he DOES have feminine aspects of his design in canon he has pretty long hair and pretty long eyelashes lol. Do you see it. I’ve been calling him my wife for months now just because. He just has a feminine aura about him I hope by now you get what I mean.

BUT the issue is that trans people, especially transfems are seen even MORE as just horrible predatory men trying to groom children by our society at large (and transphobia and Christianity DOES have a big overlap unfortunately, it fits the theming) so… he can’t just accept he might be anything but a cis man even when he hates being a man without being a type of person that’s seen even more as a possible threat to children. He can’t be a good Christian girl because he wasn’t born as a girl so it’s a lose lose situation until he gets THERAPY FINALLY. Get Asakura a good therapist and ocd meds and hrt he’ll be happier trust me. Does this make sense. Has anyone even read this whole post I know it’s really long and the fandom doesn’t care about him. If you got this far have I converted you to my trans Asakura brainrot let me know. Anyway! Songs! Here are the songs that are about being trans or gender roles and also about Asakura to me! (Some are just VERY Asakura coded and by trans people tbf but like. They also have religious theming and/or talk about being discriminated against and shit which I’ve explained in detail how I’m using as a metaphor as gender roles for him so…)

Songs that ARE directly about being trans:

Animals-STOMACH BOOK

FUKUONA GIRL-STOMACH BOOK

Boogieman-Baby Bugs

CREEP U-Black Dresses

Songs about related themes by these same trans artists (Black Dresses is a band Ada Rook is in btw):

Devils-STOMACH BOOK

Pure As A Lamb-Baby Bugs

Angels-Baby Bugs

You Can’t Hide- Baby Bugs

COWARD 2 COWARD-Ada Rook

999999999 IN A DREAM-Ada Rook

PURGATOR3Y MODULATION ENGINE-Ada Rook

SHARP HALO-Black Dresses

This is. The direct result of getting a hyperfixation on Stomach Book’s music last month. Did y’all even know that the song Fukuona Girl that was all over reels platforms as a popular audio a while back was about being trans? And it just uses the lyrics about the infamous Fukuona Shoujo gif where the little anime girl gets flayed alive as a metaphor? For being discriminated against for being trans because maybe transphobes want to do that to us? I ALSO think the theming of the gorey anime girl part fits super well for Asakura’s intrusive thoughts though especially since she looks young. It can also be about him being tormented by his intrusive thoughts. Is he the fukuona girl or are his intrusive thoughts? Kind of both? (I’m aware this song def fits Towa too lol but shh it can be a little bit about Towa tormenting Asakura his entire chapter and the parallels between how their stories connect and Asakura’s entire mental illness being spawned off of what he was manipulated into doing to Towa as a child and how he gets intrusive thoughts about that and stuff too)

Oh my goodness this is so long. I’m sorry I’m super hyperfixated on Asakura right now and also maybe having a manic episode? I’m not sure yet but it’s made my brain feel like it’s on 2x speed and I NEED to be rambling like this about everything all the time all week so. We’ll see what my therapist thinks lmao

[mla0]

shormy. shaunvin. shaunbit. shaunvinbit. shauneric but just a little. throw her at a wall.

All good... I love all of these. Well. Except Shauneric. BUT! I do have a really specific one-sided thing with it. And it's super hard for me to explain but I've experienced a similar version of this so MAYBE some fellow gay / lesbian trans people will get it

I think Shaun might've had ""a crush"" on him that was never vocalized, but whether or not it's a real ""crush"" is very dubious. While growing up she'd get third-wheeled a lot, because Eric would have girlfriends and she wouldn't because she's a "late bloomer." She'd just trail along to the movie theaters and watch the other two while an anchor sits in her stomach. She's the weird quiet kid who's mostly normal enough to get by (kinda...) but is definitely weird enough to where people wonder why Eric hangs out with her. Because Eric is Cool And Popular. And Shaun is attached because Eric is kinda all she has at the time, and is jealous of him having a girlfriend... So............... maybe deep down, Shaun kinda wished she was that girlfriend. Kinda not really but kinda. It's complicated. She gets very confused and terrified because she's like "wait do i like men? am i gay??????" but it doesn't SEEM like it, she doesn't necessarily find Eric attractive but there's Something Weird that she can't explain and it scares her... so she's... like, deeply repressed and confused by the weird emotions

You could see this as Shaun Bisexuality And Bad Taste In Men Realness, but for ME I think it's a weird "comphet" lesbian thing, and also gender dysphoria being kinda projected outwards. It was moreso the idea of being a girlfriend she was jealous of, not the actual Eric himself part. She's not into him, she's into the Cishet RolesTM she's been raised to believe means everything in this world, and what that would, in her idealized but (in her mind) impossible world, allow her to finally have (the ability to be loved as a girl, which she deeply yearns for but doesn't know that's what it is). She can't really see it as something else because the idea of being gay or especially trans is like. Unthinkable to her. She doesn't even consider it because she's in too deep, she's convinced she's a Normal Straight Man and will jump through any hoop to justify a sign of otherwise. She HAS to fit in, no matter how much it kills her. But it was still "real" enough to scare her and fuck her up even worse than she already was when it comes to her own identity. Thankfully I think Stormy could've helped her get out of this and untangle the nightmare that is figuring out your gender / sexuality

Does this make literally any sense????

[internerlizedmelancholia]

//TW\\

Was feeling like relapsing so I drew this and it made me giggle.

Adding a cut here bc below is some rambles

(Vent?)

I am so painfully lonely.

My emotional state lately is horrible, but drawing has been a good distraction.

APD makes it so hard to talk to people; therefore, I can’t actually connect with anyone. I have no one to go to when I feel like shit. I know it’s partially my fault; I avoid being around people at all costs because, no matter what happens, I’m going to end up feeling bad about any tiny thing that went wrong during the interaction. Im also really quiet, to the point people get bored of trying to converse with me. When I’m alone, I wish I was with a person; when I’m with a person, I wish I was alone.

At the moment, my social circle is extremely limited (my roommate, one of my professors) and I can feel that starting to have a huge effect on me.

I want someone to be there for me, or at the very least someone to talk to. I’m starting to think that asking for a friend, digital or in person, is too much to ask.

I don’t know if I can keep going like this and NOT relapse in order to feel better.

On top of all that is my overwhelming gender dysphoria, but I’ll probably post about that later. I’m tired.

[harleyshahas]

Been going on an incredibly quiet and slow journey of self-discovery over gender and sexuality the past year and a half and realizing why I have such a weird (kinda dysphoric) relationship to sex and the female body (tmi btw, just getting some thoughts out). Sex and gender talk below.

It's because my lady bits don't work right.

I don't know how to explain it, but I'm just not sensitive in the one place it matters when it comes to non-penetrative sex, and it's such a weird thing to realize over the last 8 or so years why sex both does and does not appeal to me. I have such a hard time labeling myself as asexual because there's such a dissonance of feeling when it comes (ha) to it for me.

I didn't know what an orgasm felt like until I was older (like 18 or so) and could purchase my own vibrator, even after the early teen years of exploring my body and why does this feel like that or what happens if I do this (I knew what sex was from a very young age because I discovered what porn was WAY too early).

There's also the weird dysphoric part of me who sees women in porn (great way to judge sex and bodies, I know), but even just a naked body not having sex (for modeling purposes or studies) and my bits don't look like their's? I know logically nothing is wrong, which is how I can keep the dysphoria at bay, but lately I've been seeing art (very gorgeous art btw) of featuring vaginas in and out of sexual situations and my god, I do not look like that. It's somehow incredibly jarring to see, and I don't quite understand why I'm having an almost negative reaction to it, but it makes me feel self-conscious about my own body and the issues of feeling I have in that place. I don't get it, and it pisses me off, do I take a moment to breathe and ignore my discomfort and look at the gorgeous art anyway because it's beautiful and this is not something that should bother me.

Logically, I know this, and I tell myself this, and I get over it, only to experience the same discomfort the next time I see a hand-drawn vagina and have to repeat the process.

I blame our sex-repressed society and the lack of information and sex-ed afforded to women to learn about their bodies. And internalized misogyny I'm still trying to get over. Thanks, mom.

Anyway.

I don't know where I'm going with this. I don't know if my lack of feeling is tied to my personal perception of womanhood and femininity or if I've just never felt like a woman. I don't have any real relationship with my perception of being female. I've always preferred comfortable jeans and t-shirts and hate dresses, but occasionally, I like to get dressed up nicely to not necessarily look pretty, but it still does nothing for me to feel feminine. I don't feel girly in dresses and nice clothes, but I don't feel bad in them, but my husband bought me a cute dress the other day and I felt bad that all I wanted to do was complain about it. He's bought me like 4 or 5 dresses now in the last few years (they're all cute and I love them!). But I can't help but think they'd look so much better on someone else.

Someone skinnier, someone taller, someone with longer legs, or smaller boobs, or no boobs.

Why can't I look at myself in the mirror when I try on dresses. Why don't I get to fucking look cute in them.

I'm happier with the way I look now than I have been in 20 years, which is a short, bigger girl with DDs and wide hips and an unfortunate hairstyle because I think I'm trying to grow out my hair but I might just give up again because I hate the way it looks at this length.

But I still can't bring myself to feel comfortable in a dress.

I don't know how to explain anything about what I'm feeling. I'm still figuring it out. But ever since I've started privately considering myself somewhere on the non binary spectrum, I've been feeling a bit more confident in myself. I don't know if I actually am, but I like being here.

I wanna start an onlyfans.